


warden from the city

by melxncholly



Series: Inquisitor Tabris AU [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Light Angst, Rated T for Kanya's Language, Reunions, Solas Bashing, kind of? kanya just really doesnt like him and lets it show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 06:44:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9807899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melxncholly/pseuds/melxncholly
Summary: Kanya is a Grey Warden. Her mage companion doesn't believe her.It causes problems.





	

**Author's Note:**

> the summary sucks wow but uh. yea smth i really wanted to write??? idk, grown adults acting like children basically
> 
> beta'd by my wonderful friend abby <3 fro

“You are not of the Dalish. You hail from an Alienage, I presume.” Solas’ voice was smooth, methodical and calm, and Kanya hated how much it set her off. Nothing against Solas, of course, he was nice enough, and it was always good to have another elf around, rather than to be surrounded by humans.

 

But…

 

He was quiet, eyes on her, waiting for an answer. Varric snorted in disbelief from beside her and Cassandra shook her head, scouting up ahead.

 

The Hinterlands were still as beautiful since she last saw them, even with the addition of demons. Nothing could quite beat Ferelden.

 

She pressed her tongue to her cheek, thinking of a way to respond.

 

“What, did the lack of tattoos on my face give me away?” Varric got a chuckle at that, and Kanya couldn’t help her smile as she continued to carefully pick her path, stepping over loose rocks and keeping herself from falling off balance on the mountain trail. “But _yes_ to answer your question. I’m from Denerim.”

 

“Ah Denerim, the armpit of Ferelden would you say?” Varric laughed beside her.

 

She gave him a shove, a smile on her face.

 

“Oh please,” She laughed. “As if, what? Kirkwall is any better?”

 

“I’ll have you know _ma’am_ that we are the pinnacle of class in our fine Kirkwall.”Varric deadpanned and they were both silent for a moment, staring at each other before they burst out into laughter. Cassandra yelled at them from ahead.

 

Solas was quiet for a moment.

 

“I see.” Is all he says, and Kanya can’t read the look on his face. ‘It’s thoughtful’, she thinks, but Varric steals away her attention before she can fully chase the trail of thought.

 

* * *

 

Whatever Kanya thought of Cassandra, the woman knew how to pick a camp. It was nestled comfortably next to the lake, and a waterfall could be heard from not much farther away. It overlooked what was left of Fort Conner (or, well, what she assumed was Fort Conner) and Inquisition troops patrolled the outskirts of the camp; while normally it would make the woman nervous, Varric's reassuring presence and their comfortable conversation was enough to take her mind off it.

 

“Herald,” Solas spoke suddenly, stealing Kanya’s attention from Varric’s Ramblings™. Solas cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his seat as he got comfortable.

 

“If you’re from Denerim, why were you at the Conclave?” The question got Cassandra’s attention, her head whipping up from the book she was currently invested in.

 

“I imagine you were there as a servant?” He prompted, and Kanya could feel her teeth grind together. She took orders from no one, much less some stuffy noble. She wasn’t anyone’s servant, and the very thought of being considered one made her blood boil.

 

“Why do you wanna know.” She ground out defensively, fists clenched in a poor attempt to conceal her anger.

 

“I just find it curious as to why an elf from Denerim would be there. From my experience, city elves rarely left their alienage.” His know-it-all tone made her even more pissed. He spoke as if he had her all figured out, as if he knew her life story, knew what she’s been through.

 

“That’s my business and mine alone. I’m _curious_ as to _why_ you need to know.”

 

“It just seems-”

 

“It just _seems_ to me that you need to stop asking questions.” Her lips twisted in an almost-snarl, and she leapt up to stalk toward him, anger radiating off her in waves before she jabbed a finger into his chest, punctuating her words. “Last I remembered, Ferelden’s fucking _Warden Commander_ didn’t need a reason for seeing the Divine.” They did, but she didn’t need to tell Solas that.

 

Solas blinked up at Kanya, her finger digging into his chest. She could hear Cassandra’s confused ‘ _Wait, what?’_ from behind her, on the other side of the camp.

 

He pushed her accusing finger away, spark of annoyance flitting across his face.

 

“You’re Ferelden’s Warden Commander?” he sounds incredulous, as if she’s lying, which makes her anger flare up even more than it had previously.

 

“Yeah- why? You think I’d just make it up?” she’s almost shouting now, arms thrown up in the air as she steps back, towering over him as he continues to sit.

 

“No, but you don’t quite seem to be the model visage of a Warden.”

 

“Excuse me!” She was stupidly close to strangling his stupid, smart-ass face and tossing him off the mountain. “And pray tell, what is the “model visage” of a warden to you!?”

 

“Perhaps not a petulant child who moans and groans whenever she does not get her way!” He shoots up, and now she has to look up as the tables turn and he towers a good foot or two over her. They glared at each other, neither backing away, and oh, if her wardens were here now…

 

Varric was the one who pushed them apart, a gentle hand on Kanya’s arm. “Alright, alright, break it up. I think we’ve all had a long day, and we’re tired.” He sent a pointed look towards her. “And you, Griffon,” he sighed, his hands falling back to his side. “I know you haven’t gotten nearly enough sleep.”

 

Kanya finds herself relaxing at his interjection, and takes a moment to calm herself, taking a deep breath before rolling her eyes and resting her hands on her hips, “What are you,” she says, “My father?” it’s said softly, humor evident in her voice.

 

He chuckled, patting her arm as he walked back to his spot. Solas had said nothing during the exchange, only continue to stare at Kanya. She looks back at him, and their eyes burrow into each other. Her resentment sparked anew, scowl making its home upon her face.

 

“I’ll show you.” She hissed, leaving him with the harsh whisper before she crawled into the tent for the night.

 

* * *

 

“Herald, this is ridiculous.”

 

Kanya ignored the other woman’s concerns. Solas didn’t believe her, didn’t believe her one bit, and she was going to _prove him wrong_.

 

They were taking a detour back to Haven, not a very long one, just a quick stop. Kanya had left Nate at a small tavern, a stop for those making the “Holy Journey”. Though, there was no proof he’d still be waiting for her. She hoped he was, that he hadn’t left for Amaranthine with news of _“I’m sorry Alistair but your wife was an idiot and died in an explosion.”_

 

If he did, well, her dear husband would be in for a surprise wouldn’t he.  

 

The tavern was still a ways away, and the cold wind pushing in from the mountain whipped her hair about, pulling it from her already loose ponytail. Kanya pushed blonde locks from her face, grumbling as it hit her cold cheeks. She huffed a sigh, squinting her eyes, staring ahead. Nope, nothing yet.

 

Varric hummed, filling the silence with his voice. “So, the rumor is you’re the Commander?” his voice, which sounded like he’d gargled glass every day and washed it down with whiskey, was a warm contrast to the bitter cold.

 

Kanya hummed in response, unable to help the smirk on her features. “That’s the rumor, but I’m pretty sure I remember you being there when it originated.”

 

He laughs, a deep rumble that sends a sharp pang of longing through Kanya, that made her miss home, miss Oghren and his jokes. “Well, it seems I was.“ he starts, ” I just have one question for you _Commander_ ,” Kanya shifted in her saddle, turning her head slightly to look at Varric as he rode up beside her.

 

“And what would that be?” She could hear Solas scoff from behind them, could practically feel his slimy eyeballs and how they rolled in his head. Her toes curl in annoyance.

 

“What would a Warden, especially _Ferelden’s_ Warden Commander, be doing at the Chantry’s Conclave?” his tone was inquisitive, curious, and Kanya could understand why he’d want to know.

 

“It’s a secret.” Was her own short response and _oh_ she could feel the eyes on her, Cassandra’s silent distrust. After all, why would a Warden be there? There was no need, logically, for her to see the Divine. She knew that, deep in her heart.

 

Truthfully - “it’s a secret” wasn’t too far off from the actual reason of her visit.

 

Her memory was scattered, hiding the truth even from her.

 

Solas gave a sarcastic little hum from behind them, signifying his distaste for her response, and how he fully believed she was lying and she resisted the urge to turn around and kick the shit out of him. Varric, it seemed, was the only one satisfied with the answer.

 

Though she had a sneaking suspicion that soon he’d be poking at it more.

 

“..I’ve known plenty of Wardens in my time to expect the secrecy,” he paused for breath and Kanya had so many questions about that, but he continued before she could voice them.

 

“So then, Denerim?” It seemed like he was insistent on getting every possible piece of information out of her. Authors. Typical.

 

“Yes, Denerim.” She was careful as she spoke, her thoughts returning to her old home. She held no love for that city, only hate for what it had done to her. To her family. Oh, how gladly she would let it burn if only the flames could reclaim what it had so callously taken from them. From her father, her mother, Soris, _Shianni-_

 

But they were safe now. Though, those few who were left. Her children were alive, living in relative wealth, far from harm’s reach.

 

She missed them. It had been too long.

 

Varric was waiting for her, eyes curious. Kanya cleared her throat, shifting on the stiff saddle in an attempt to find comfort. In the distance, she could vaguely see the outcrop of the tavern ahead.

 

“Go on.” Varric urged her to continue on, and she gripped the reins, trying to keep bitterness from seeping into her tone.

 

“Lived there all my life, my parents, my cousins, and me. It sucked, and that’s all you need to know.” She spoke about it in a detached manner. Her life was private, and she liked Varric, but not that much. They hadn’t shed blood together like she had with her Wardens, hadn’t bonded together over a fate shared by blood and taint. Solas snorted in the back and she resisted the urge to tell him to shut the fuck up.

 

“You do not enjoy to speak of your past, then?” Every word made Kanya’s blood boil, annoyance flare, and she had to physically will herself to stay calm.

 

“Well, once you stop being cryptic as all hell, then maybe I’ll talk more.” She turned slightly, levelling him with a glare. “But in my opinion, you haven’t _earned_ any of my trust.” None of them had, no offense to Varric.

 

With that she whipped the reins, signaling the horse to gallop towards the warmth of the tavern, pulling ahead of the group.

 

* * *

 

They walked in together, Cassandra hovering at Kanya’s back. She’d given her an earful. Apparently riding off on her own was a “bad idea” and that she was too “reckless”, as if that meant anything. Kanya huffed in annoyance to herself before looking around, hoping to spot Nate’s familiar face.

 

The warmth of the tavern was a welcome reprieve from the cold outside. Haven was still about a day’s ride away, and Kanya hoped that they would be able to rent a warm bed later. As if on cue, Solas stepped up beside her, eyes roaming over the small crowd inside.

 

“So _Commander_ ,” his voice held an air of snide superiority. “You were looking for someone?” He looked down on her, and she wanted to punch him. “Am I correct to believe that is why you detoured us? Or are you trying to prove something.”

 

Her nails dug crescents into her palms, and ‘Oh’ she told herself, ‘this is hard- keeping calm.’

 

“It’s been a long ride Solas,” she ground the words out, frowning as she turned and looked at him. “I think we all could use a rest.” Her, “ _But you’re welcome to go fuck off and die in the cold”_ , was left unsaid.

 

Cassandra spoke up, stepping between them. “Perhaps a warm meal would do us all some good,” and Kanya felt herself being pushed forward, a strong hand levelling on her shoulder.

 

It didn’t take them long to find a table, which left plenty of time for a silence to develop between the group, and tension to hang heavy in the air.

 

Kanya couldn’t bother to care, her eyes were too busy as they roamed over the faces of the other patrons.

 

Nate wasn’t there. ‘He’s gone. He’s left. He’s off to tell everyone I’m _dead_ and,’ these thoughts flitted through her head, ‘ no, no, _no-’_ she severed that train of thought.

 

She could smell something wafting up from beneath her, teasing her stomach. She certainly didn’t remember ordering food, not in her frantic state of mind, but a quick glance to Varric confirmed her suspicions. He smiled softly at her, raising the mug of ale in his hand slightly in acknowledgement.

 

It was stew, Ferelden stew. A familiar common dish that reminded her of home, and her father. The alienage and happier times with her family, crowded around their table. Of her mother, alive and happy.

 

They ate in relative silence, the only sounds were those of other patrons talking softly, and the soft crackle of the fire.

 

Kanya sighed. It really was useless to think Nate would have stayed. She had brought them here for nothing, and besides- she knew she was right. Solas would have found out the truth sooner or later, she didn’t need to-

 

“So Ser, you’ll be making your way t’wards Vigils Keep?” Kanya couldn’t have moved faster, her head nearly swivelling off to stare at the bartender.

 

“Yes I have… duties to attend to. Funeral to plan.” Sure enough, there Nate stood, regal and handsome as always, his Warden armor forgone in favor for more weather appropriate clothes.

 

He thought she was dead. But he had stayed, if only waiting for some news of his Commander.

 

“ _Nate_!”

 

Kanya couldn’t stop herself, she leapt out of her chair, and threw herself at the man, throwing him off balance.

 

He stumbled to catch her, and she wrapped herself around him, hugging him close. After so long without a friend, without her warden’s, _there he was_.

 

Nate struggled to hold her, eyes nearly bulging from his head as he looked down at the mass in his arms. “ _Commander_!?” he was surprised, and it was evident in how he squawked out her title.

 

Kanya could feel tears pricking at her eyes, but laughter bubbled up and out from her chest.

 

“Don’t tell me it’s _me_ you’re burying!” and that caused a laugh to bubble from Nate. She could feel eyes on them, from the bartender, the group she suddenly left, the other patrons, but she didn’t care.

 

“The Maker and his little miracles- I can’t believe i thought you were dead.” came Nathaniel’s own reply.

 

He held her tight, and Kanya was thankful for it, thankful for her friend. After a moment they pulled apart, and she led him towards her companions. She swept a hand in front of her, flourishing it for a moment.

 

“Cassandra, Varric,” she sent a pointed look to Solas. “ _Solas_. This is Warden-Constable Nathaniel Howe, my second in command.” Nate was the picture perfect stance of etiquette as he stood beside her. Back straight and gaze levelled on the three in front of him. After a moment a smile graced his face, and he bowed slightly.

 

“I must thank you for taking care of the Commander for me, Maker knows she would have gotten into trouble on her own.” He ignored Kanya’s protest from beside him, and stood back straight.

 

Varric laughed from his seat, a loud thing that rumbled from deep in his chest, and he pounded at the table as he wheezed for breath between laughs.

 

Solas stood, his expression the picture of calm, but his gaze flicked down to Kanya.

 

She was smug, the smile on her face wide. In her own mind, she had won this little battle between them, proved him wrong.

 

“See Solas. I’m a Commander.”

 

“I can see Herald.”

 

“Not too bad for city elf huh?” Solas didn’t reply to that, and Nate looked between them, confusion written on his features, before Cassandra dragged him off, questions burning off her tongue.

 

* * *

 

Nathaniel was double checking her bags, the saddle on her horse, making sure everything was in place. He had kept her armor, and the familiarity was comforting to Kanya. She felt more like herself, leather warden armor donned, her mother’s dagger resting at her side. A familiar weight, a reminder, that Adaia was still watching after her.

 

Varric and Cassandra hung around Nate, and Kanya could just imagine the questions burning off Varric’s tongue. The thought brought a smile to her face, and she let a small chuckle slip past her lips.

 

A figure strode up beside her, and glimpsing over Kanya could see Solas, face straight and passive as he watched the scene before them.

 

“It appears I owe you an apology.” He stated, his face never reaching hers. “It seems you were telling the truth, and I apologize.”

 

Kanya shrugged, arms crossing over her chest. She still didn’t like him, him and his know-it-all attitude.

 

“Well maybe next time you’ll believe me.” She could barely hide the bitterness in his voice, and she heard the man sigh next to her.

 

“You’re still angry I presume.” and _oh_ she couldn’t restrain the bitter laugh that bubbled out.

 

“Of course I’m still fucking angry.” She sighed, eyes roaming towards the snowy roads. The cold wind nipped at her face, and Kanya wouldn’t be surprised if she woke up the next morning with a cold.

 

“Everything I’ve done in my life, all my accomplishments, I’ve had to fight for. And to be brushed off like some child- I’m no longer a child Solas.” She stopped being a child when her mother was killed in front of her, when she was arranged to marry a man she didn’t know, and when that same man gave himself to save her. She stopped being a child when her lips touched that silver chalice, when the taint became apart of her.

 

Kanya hadn’t been a child in a long, long time.

 

She spared a glance at Solas, her expression unreadable. “Anyways- When we first talked, you spoke of Alistair and the _Hero of Ferelden_ lighting the beacon. How couldn’t you see that it was me?”

 

“What I see in the fade are memories, fractions of what the spirits see, imprints left in time-” she cut him off, waving her hand in his face. He smacked it away.

 

“Spare me the lecture _Hahren_ ,” sarcasm was dripping from her tone. “I just remembered- I don’t care.”

 

With that she walked towards the others, moving them out of the way as she hoisted herself up on her saddle.

  
“Let’s get this show on the road people,” her words rang out, “I want to reach Orlais in the next week, not the next age.”


End file.
